To Sacrifce All and Recieve None
by Ten Story
Summary: Jim Kirk is stressed and hasn't had a break in months, and, as a result, falls into an obvious Klingon trap. Spock must think fast, but he might need to reveal his feelings for the Captain to save his life. First time Slash. Rated for sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

"To Sacrifice All and Receive None"

By Ten Story

Series: Star Trek Original Series

Couple: Spirk

Genre: Slash, first time, romance

Disclaimer: I do not own anything having to do with Star Trek. It all belongs to Gene Roddenberry, bless him, and Paramount (not so much with the blessings, there). I write this purely for my own venting pleasure. If you want to flame me, do it because you think the story is bad and not because you want to rag on Spirk. If you don't like slash and/or Spirk, don't read it. Plain and simple. As for the rest of you, enjoy!

Altogether a damned depressing day.

First the warp coil was malfunctioning, making maximum impulse speed the fastest the Enterprise could go. Second, there was cargo in the hold that had to be delivered in two days to a planet three days away, even with Scotty working around the clock. And thirdly, if that wasn't enough to drive Jim Kirk certifiably insane, the only safe course to the planet was right next to the neutral zone between Klingon and Federation space, making everyone on board the Star Fleet vessel so nervous and apprehensive that all one had to do was drop a pin on the bridge and the crew would jump and scream in terror at the sound.

"Captain! Captain, I must have a word with you this minute," said the most irritating, vile female voice he had ever heard in his entire life. A literal shiver of disgust pulsed through him, setting his shoulders rigid and his temper soaring to heights unprecedented.

Oh, and had he forgotten to mention that an obnoxious, moronic, spoiled, capricious, irrational, and exasperating ambassador from Vatos VII was hitching a ride to said planet that was three days away? And with each and every second she was inadvertently trying to drive Jim to murder her in her sleep?

It took every ounce of energy he had to turn towards her with a smile. The smile hurt. "Yes, Ambassador Geneval, what can I do for you?"

"You can get this ship into warp drive this instant. As I have told you a thousand times, it is very important that I reach my destination on time! If your crew is too incompetent to get this heap of junk working, I insist you call out for another ship in the area to take me the rest of the way."

Incompetent. Heap of junk. Each word raised the temperature of his blood by another hundred degrees. He had never wanted to hurt a woman, and he never had hurt one who wasn't a soldier. But for the lady Ambassador… it was so tempting to make an exception. To think he had let Uhura talk him into volunteering his ship at the Star Fleet conference to transport the meddling bitch. 'It'll make us all look really good,' she said. 'After what you pulled on Sorafar, we need a bit more credibility so the new Admiral will like you,' she said. He was such a moron for even mildly caring what that buffoon in uniform thought! Just because he was the newly appointed brass didn't make him an expert on the worlds in this quadrant! Who was he to tell him how to handle the Sorafarans, who would sooner shoot you than look at you?

"Madam, as I have already told you a thousand times, we are very alone out here. The nearest transport is four days away. So either you go back to your quarters and let me and my crew do our jobs, or you may continue to follow me around and cause our repairs to be delayed further. Have I made myself clear?"

Damn it. He hadn't meant to be so rude. He really hadn't. Somewhere in his brain more polite words had been on their way to his mouth but his temper had plans of its own and beat them to the punch line. And perfect. JUST PERFECT. Here comes Uhura waltzing down the hallway… with those perfect legs of hers…

Not now. He can't think like that now.

"You have made yourself clear, Captain. And let me make myself clear about this. Star Fleet command will hear about your appalling behavior. Good day."

Thank God. That enormous buttocks was swishing in the opposite direction at last. And here it comes…

"Captain, I'm sorry but I couldn't help overhearing. That was - " Uhura began.

He instantly turned on her. "I am not in the mood to be chastised by one of my subordinates, Lieutenant," he barked. It was so loud he shocked even himself.

Uhura frowned angrily. "Apologies, sir."

"Then get back to work."

Just as he suspected - she was mad. Didn't see the position he was in. Didn't see that he was only human - had a limit just like any other. And by God, he had reached his limit. He was going to punch someone at this rate. Angrily he punched the intercom nearby instead. He knew this was a bad idea - he shouldn't be talking to anyone in the state he was currently in, but he was just far enough past reason that it didn't matter anymore.

"Captain to Engine Room, do you read?"

"Aye, Captain. This's the Engine Room. We read ya loud n'clear."

"Scotty, I'm only going to say this once. If you don't get that warp coil working, I am going to rain all sorts of hell down on you, do you understand?!!?"

There was a long pause. Well, Jim, let's see how many friends you can lose in a day, hm? Doing great here so far.

"Aye, sir. We're workin' as fast as we can. Over and out."

Kirk cursed and punched the intercom again. "Captain to First Officer Spock."

"Yes, Captain?"

"I will be in my quarters for a few hours - I… " he sighed. "…need to rest. Do not contact me unless it's an emergency."

On the bridge, Spock's eyebrows scrunched together curiously. "Understood, Captain." he said. Caught off-guard by such a strange statement, he almost asked if there was anything he could help with, but his tongue was stunned into silence. Jim Kirk admitting he needed rest? And on the Bridge channel, not a private one? That practically screamed to Spock that something was very wrong. Either that or the Captain was just so tired it didn't matter to him who heard evidence of his mortality.

The elevator doors slid open and Uhura stepped out onto the Bridge. She immediately addressed Spock.

"Sir, is there something wrong with the Captain?"

"What do you mean, Lieutenant?"

"Well, he just snapped at me in the hallway there. I had overheard him yelling at the Ambassador. I mean, I've seen him annoyed before but he's never let it get that bad. Perhaps we should notify the Doctor?"

Spock nodded slowly. "Agreed. Mr. Sulu, you have the com. Maintain best speed towards our destination. I will return to the bridge shortly."

"Understood, sir." Sulu said over his shoulder.

The elevator doors closed behind Spock. After poking a few buttons, he was traveling down the shaft toward Sickbay. Uhura was absolutely right. It was about time he consulted the good Doctor on this matter which was becoming more apparent to him every day for the last several.

A brief walk down the hallway and he was there. There was no one around except for the Doctor himself - all the more convenient for the errand he came to accomplish. McCoy was having a drink and reading a book, clearly in a serene mood.

"Doctor, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"

McCoy glanced up briefly. Spock could sense his mood instantly change to a more guarded one. "Well, Mr. Spock, I can't think of what I'd rather do with my time than talk with you privately."

"Your sarcasm is not lost on me Doctor, and the feeling is mutual to its greatest extent. However, I come concerning a matter with the Captain."

The Doctor closed his book and stood up, putting on a more serious face as Spock locked the Sickbay doors.

"I'm all ears, then. What seems to be the trouble?"

"Well, to be frank, Doctor, I was hoping you could tell me. You see, the Captain just announced on a public channel that he needed to rest."

McCoy's face was shocked. "Now this is a red letter day."

Spock continued. "Also, according to Lieutenant Uhura, he is very much on edge. He will not come to you directly, Doctor…"

"… Unless he's on his deathbed, I know. That man thinks he's invincible. No… this sounds like a psychological matter to me."

"There is a possibility that it could also be political. The Lieutenant told me he was exchanging strong words with the Ambassador."

McCoy groaned. "Have you spoken with that witch since she came on board?"

"No, I have not."

"Trust me, that woman is abrasive on anyone's nerves. She comes in here every ten minutes thinking she has some rare disease she read about in the database. A jagged pill if there ever was one."

"I see. But in any case, I think I should speak to the Captain to make sure there is no lasting damage with the Ambassador. It could cause problems between her people and Star Fleet."

"True, but if you want my two cents, which is what you came down here for in the first place, I'd leave Jim alone just now. If he asked you for some time, he really, really needs it. He knows he can only let a scarce few people know on this ship that he's made of flesh and blood, and when he's more man and less God to a point where he tells you on a public channel to leave him be… well. As his friend, I know you'll want to do him the favor."

Spock turned towards the wall and squeezed two fingers in his other hand. He seemed far away for a minute, then abruptly returned to the room they were standing in. "Is it your professional opinion that he is fatigued?"

McCoy shrugged. "Could be. It could also be the bubonic plague for all I know. Without getting a look at him I can't make any sort of assessment. But if you ask me just as somebody who knows Jim, I think he just might be a little lonely is all."

Spock squeezed his two fingers a little harder while he listened. McCoy went on. "I mean, the last two times we had shore leave he didn't leave the ship, much to my chagrin. He hasn't had the company of somebody who wasn't professionally involved with him for a good while now."

"And why should that matter, Doctor?"

McCoy smirked despite himself. He knew Spock long enough now to recognize when he was insulted. "You're missing what I'm saying entirely. Come on now, you're with him for almost his every waking moment. Surely you've noticed he's been without a certain human necessity for quite some time."

Spock looked like he had swallowed something extremely unpleasant. McCoy assumed, with Vulcans being so reserved, that perhaps they didn't talk about this sort of thing openly.

"Are you referring to his sexual endeavors, Doctor?"

The Doctor laughed. "Think about it. He won't get involved with anyone on the crew because he knows that causes trouble. Plus Star Fleet generally frowns on it - all relationships have to be reported, and any unrest has to be discussed with superiors… it's a big hassle. And we haven't had female passengers in a while that he could interact with in that way… he's probably starved for affection."

"But he voluntarily remained on board the ship during the last two shore leaves. If it is so important for a human to remain… sexually active, as the result of inactivity is that they are unable to function at full capacity, then why would he not seek out a companion?"

"My thoughts exactly during each of the shore leaves, Mr. Spock." McCoy sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if he's not getting a little detached from humanity - if he's not maybe developing issues with intimacy."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I know. Jim Kirk having intimacy issues? It sounds ludicrous. Even to me. But it's just that he's so damned obsessed with this ship."

"Because he is a good Captain."

"Yes, but at what cost? …Look, I'm just saying that sometimes I wish he'd take an extended leave and come back when he's sorted some of this stuff out. That's all."

Spock nodded quickly and began to shoot for the door. He looked extremely nervous.

"Spock." McCoy called out after him. Spock paused just in the doorway, but did not turn around.

"You may be half Vulcan, but I can't believe that you don't understand about sexual desire. How it's like a fight within humans between raw, instinctual power and reason. Our pride allows us to 'function at full capacity' as you put it, ignoring our own needs. But to give in to that feeling is one of the sweetest sensations in the world."

The doors closed, and McCoy found himself alone. A brief suspicion passed through his mind, but he dismissed it and went back to his book.

Spock leaned on the wall outside of Sickbay. When he looked around and saw that he was alone, he exhaled deeply and whispered to himself.

"It is not only within humans, Doctor."


	2. Chapter 2

"Computer, lock the doors."

"Acknowledged."

The Captain's quarter doors snapped shut and locked behind him as he stumbled inside. His brain was practically numb, he was so exhausted. And yet, he still had this raging hard on. What the hell was that about? That horrible Ambassador was enough to make his penis as flaccid as gelatin for a month. He never thought he'd ever find a woman unattractive, or her voice the sound of unpleasantness incarnate, but he supposed there was a first time for everything.

And yet as huffed up as he had been, all it took to get him this aroused was Uhura walking by him. Good God, had there been anything else? Not that he could think of… he had made a few calls before he headed back here, but… nothing really stood out in his mind that had added to this sudden blaze that was practically uncontrollable. Was he regressing into some hormonal teenager? What was this?

"It's a God dammed curse is what it is…"

Alright. Breathe. It's fine. If you think about it, it's logical to be feeling this way… I mean, how long has it been for you?

Taking it into deeper consideration, Kirk couldn't even recall if he had ever gone without sex longer than this particular stretch of affectionless desert. His old school buddies at the academy would have been ashamed of him. To be perfectly honest, he was a little ashamed of himself. Not to mention desperate and horny as all hell. But there had been too much to do during the last two shore leaves! He couldn't have just dropped everything, explaining to Command that he needed to get laid. Thank God Spock had hung around to help him, or else he would have died from loneliness.

Without permission from the rest of him, his right hand was crawling up his shirt and caressing his nipples in nearly an angry fashion. Good old right hand. He might as well marry the damn thing already.

He struggled with himself, trying to at least get as far as the bedroom so he could lie down, but it was too much. He had to be done with this, now. Still against the wall, he hurriedly unzipped his pants and at last grabbed his throbbing erection. It felt so good to finally touch it, he thought he would cry. Instead he stifled out a half-moan, half-sob. It hurt. It always hurt. The hole in his heart ached horribly.

But he didn't give a damn. He could always push the pain out. He immediately did so and went through the motions, spitting on his palm and fisting himself in a lightening rhythm. During this time when he waited for release, his brain always became frantic, despite his fierce desire for it to be as vacant as possible. It would pull any thought that was floating around forward and try to make it sexual. All sorts of strange things would fly to him, always making himself feel embarrassed in the darkest regions of his soul, but after so many years he was starting to get used to it. Anyway, it was useless condemning yourself for unbridled thoughts that the mind eroticizes within the throws of passion. Still, they always surprised him.

Long, perfect legs…Uhura… wrapping those legs around his waist…

"Mmmgh… Uhura…"

The hips of Yeoman Rand… Janice… he could just hear the sound of his balls slapping against that beautiful ass as he pounded into her…

"Janice…"

Spock's face. Licking his beautiful ears. Gorgeous mouth encircling his cock. The thought had come too quickly for the guilt to accompany it. He granted himself this one moment of chaos, moaning whatever he wanted, doing whatever he wanted. He deserved it, he thought. Whatever it took to make him feel better and escape the pain for a few precious seconds.

"Ugh… Spock! Fuck me… do it…"

The doors had opened just as he had said it. And Spock was standing there, in the doorway, his mouth agape.

Kirk's eyes locked on Spock with equal amounts of horror pouring from his pupils. He stopped movement instantly, standing there like a deer in the headlights. For about thirty seconds they stood there - the most embarrassing thirty seconds of Kirk's life - then Spock did something Kirk had never heard him do. Stutter.

"I-I… that is…I heard noises fr-from outside and - …so I… manual lock override…"

Kirk made no move to help him on this. Instead he swallowed Spock's raw emotions as they came out and filled the room with their stupefied aura. Only once or twice had he seen Spock act so human. Shaking. Babbling. So unsure of himself.

Weak.

"Apologies, Captain."

Then he was gone.

Jim cursed. He cursed with every curse word he knew in every language he could remember. What a perfect time for this to happen.

And what a sight he must have been! Hair a sweaty, musty mess, one hand down his pants and the other up his shirt. What a pathetic glob of humanity he was. Who exactly was the weak one here, anyway?

He tried not to panic. He tried to block out the mounting terror that this could ruin everything, that Spock could leave the Enterprise for another assignment out of disgust, that he would never speak to Jim again, that someone at headquarters would find out about this… although his brain rewound to Spock never speaking to him again, because that, he quickly concurred, would be the worst outcome of this whole damn mess…

"Spock…"

Jim had to talk to someone, against his better judgment. He opened a private channel while he got a drink of water.

"Doctor McCoy, here."

"Bones, it's Jim. Can you come up to my quarters for a minute?"

"Sure, Jim. …Everything alright?"

"I'm not sure yet. Bring the Saurian brandy with you."

"That bad, huh?"

"I'll see you in a few."

McCoy switched off the intercom and groaned. "Here we go."

* * *

On his way to the Captain's quarters, McCoy noticed Spock coming from the opposite direction in the hallway.

"Hey, I'm on my way to Jim now. I'll try to find out what's going… on…"

He had been ignored. In fact, Spock had never even looked up.

"What's the matter? You look a little green." McCoy tried again. But Spock was already in the elevator and the doors were closing.

"Boy, I don't think this day could get any stranger."

"I say, Doctor McCoy!"

McCoy immediately quickened his pace. "Spoke too soon…"

"Doctor, I seem to be having some trouble with my foot. I'm afraid it could be…"

"Sorry, Ambassador Geneval, but I'm afraid I have a medical emergency. If you would like, you can wait in Sickbay and I'll call Nurse Chapel to help you."

"Now see here, Doctor!" the old bird snapped. "As I am an Ambassador, I expect to be treated by the Chief Medical Officer on this ship. Not some useless underling!"

"Again, my sincerest apologies, Ambassador," McCoy had to strain the words, forcing them into some semblance of polite tone, or at least a tone that could possibly be interpreted as such. Calling Christine a useless underling alone would have been enough for him to leap down the witch's throat and put her in her place if the witch had been anyone else except the Ambassador. "You may then wait for me in Sickbay and I will help you just as soon as I return."

"And when will that be?!?"

Time to scurry off. She was still yelling behind him, but it wouldn't matter soon enough. He'd be in the Captain's quarters in a matter of seconds.

Upon walking in, he spotted Kirk on the bed, looking to be a cross between angry and miserable. McCoy groaned for the third time that day.

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I suppose." he mused. "Computer, lock the doors."

The computer did so, even though McCoy's communicator went off a minute later, blaring the Ambassador's exasperated clucking through the tiny speaker. He shut the device off with overdramatic disdain. They enjoyed a hearty chuckle from it and got to drinking.

"So, what's on the great Captain's mind today, hm? You know I just saw Spock. He looked pretty shook up, as hard as that is to believe."

"On a day like today, Bones, I'll believe anything you tell me," Kirk retorted. "Bones, I don't really want to tell anyone this, but…"

"It's alright, Jim. I'm your Doctor and your friend. You know you can tell me anything."

"I know, but… this is just too damned embarrassing. I hate to admit it, but I don't know what else to do."

"This sure is an oddball day, if you're admitting you're lost. So what happened?" McCoy said cautiously. "Something with Spock?"

"He caught me polishing the gun."

"Oh, God…"

"What?" Kirk said angrily. "Do I have to remind you of the whole Doctor-friend bit you just spewed to me?"

"Sorry, Jim. I just didn't really want to know about that."

"Oh, you're so comforting. Why the hell did I call you up here?"

"I'm just pulling your chain… no pun intended."

"Hilarious."

"Well, what did he see?"

"Everything and more."

McCoy sighed. "Of course he did. I told him to leave you alone. I even suspected that's what you needed to do, and he always does the opposite of what I tell him. So he marched up here, just when I thought you were going to get some peace…"

"He's a good First Officer."

The Doctor paused at Jim's comment, then laughed, taking a swig of his brandy.

"What now?" Jim asked.

"Nothing. Well, I better get back to Sickbay. The Ambassador's undoubtedly waiting for me to show up and if I don't, it'll make us all look bad."

Jim pouted despite himself as McCoy moved toward the doors.

"To hell with her. I thought we were going to stay up and get drunk."

"As a Doctor, I don't recommend it. But if it'll help you loosen up, Jim, I'll vote that you try anything at this point. And don't worry about Spock. He may follow the rule book to the letter but he is your friend and he won't breathe a word to anyone about all this. Don't ask, don't tell, right?"

"You're acting like I sinned."

"You didn't. …By the way, Jim," the Doctor mused as he left, "what you just said about him being a good First Officer? He said the exact same thing about you not even an hour ago. …Keep the brandy. Think of it as a sympathy present."

When Kirk was alone again, he growled and took a mouthful from the bottle. The burning liquid rolled down his throat as he reveled in the pressure of his muscles contracting and swallowing. Another brief flash of imagery, swallowing something saltier, and yet sweet…

God, just stop it. Stop.

Settling down on the bed, he was determined to get as wasted as he possibly could. He'd drink every ounce of liquor on the ship if he had to. Only one thought now plagued his mind, and no other.

I have sinned.

Not but five minutes later, the emergency siren wailed.

Wonderful. He can't masturbate. He can't get drunk.

"Do I have to kill someone to relax around here?"

* * *

"Status, Mr. Sulu."

"Emergency distress call, sir. Its origin is just out of orbit of Constanode's second moon, Hermadest, directly below us. A transport ship, class 318."

Spock looked troubled. "318? I did not think any of that type could fly out here in this region of space. They are quite light weight and can only travel short distances. We are currently in the remotest regions of space…"

"Should we hail the Captain?"

"No," Spock said loudly. The entire Bridge looked at him, alarmed by the outburst. Thankfully he recovered quickly. "I will handle this. Open up a channel, please, Lieutenant Uhura."

"Yes, sir. Channel open."

"On screen."

The viewer was crackling - Spock could barely make out two faces, but what species they were, he could not tell.

"Please - nee- help… engi… heated. Won't la- …two hours. -Trapped inside…"

"This is First Officer Spock of the starship Enterprise. Please state your affiliation and number of crewmen in need of assistance."

"Plea- …not much time… the - children aboard…"

"Did dhey just say dhere vere children aboard?" Chekov asked.

"Sir, communications have been severed. I can't reach them on any frequency." Uhura interrupted.

Spock crinkled his nose slightly as he thought. He made a displeased sound and walked over to his console, commanding the computer to run several scans on the vessel.

The Bridge doors snapped open. Jim Kirk stepped out and immediately felt an anvil fall to the bottom of his stomach.

Smart thinking, Jim. It didn't occur to you whatsoever that Spock would be on the Bridge, doing your job for you while you moped about, and that you'd have to face him?

Jim cleared his throat. "Status report."

Spock turned around abruptly, obviously unnerved at the Captain's presence. Jim would have laughed if he didn't feel just as humiliated. He had to give Spock credit, though - he was being very careful not to look him in the eye. "A transport class 318 is requesting assistance, Captain. The computer's readings, however, are showing us that the ship is much larger than a class 318, which is extremely suspicious. Due to the sandstorms on the moon's surface, it is impossible to confirm visually that its registry code and class type are legitimate. This could be some kind of trap."

"A trap in dhe middle of dhis region of space? Ve may be right next to Klingon territory, but even dhey don't vander out dhis far too often." Chekov commented.

"How could they possibly know a Federation ship would be taking this route to set up a trap?" Sulu added.

"Lieutenant, is it possible to discover the humanoids' species from the dialect of the transmission?" Spock asked.

Uhura turned back to her console and scrutinized the monitors. "No, sir. Neither the computer nor myself could make out the dialect, although if I had to guess, it was not of Earth origin."

"Captain," Chekov said. "Dhe transmission reported dhere vere children on board dhe wessel. If dhat is true, shouldn't ve risk it?"

Jim heard the Bridge's imput, but not really. All that was important to him at this moment was getting as far away from Spock as possible. He couldn't stand this for another second, even if it caused him to make a poor decision.

"Myself and two other crewmen will investigate."

"Sir, I do not think that to be -"

As Spock talked he looked like he had just been kicked in the face. Jim ignored it as best he could and interrupted him.

"Chekov's right. If there are children on that vessel, they won't last long in that harsh climate. It's worth the risk."

"But for you to go personally, sir…?"

Jim knew that look. It was as close as a Vulcan could get to begging. But he couldn't do this now… he just couldn't. He had to think.

"I need the exercise. Mr. Spock, you have the com. Have my away team meet me in the transporter room."

Spock turned back to his console, albeit dejectedly. "Understood, sir."


	3. Chapter 3

To my wonderful and patient readers,

FINALLY! An update for this fic!!!! Thank you all so much for your continued interest and patience with this story. If only I did NOT have a life and could solely work on this project… how nice would that be? Also, thank you all very much for your encouragement and comments. They have all been very positive and I really appreciate that. So now, what you've been waiting for! The story! And I promise I will update it again sooner this time…= (

Entering the transporter room while arming himself, Jim saw his away team - O'Neil and McCoy - already on the transporter, awaiting his arrival. Scotty was at the controls, causing an uncomfortable shift in the mood from focused to shameful. Scotty cleared his throat, but gave the Captain a half-smile nonetheless. Secretly Jim was thankful for that, at least. He wasn't quite built up enough to muster all the apologies he was slated to give for the day's mishaps. Put him in front of a big bad space monster, sure, he'd take it down without thinking twice. Put him in front of friends that were spurned and deserved words, real words of humility and affection… well. That took a lot more guts. Especially lately. Maybe all this loneliness really was starting to take its toll…

Thank God for Spock, at least. Spock has always been around, through the best and the worst of times…

"Jim, you alright?" McCoy asked. "Ready to go?"

"Never better. Let's get to it."

Watching the Captain step on the transporter pad next to him, McCoy was not convinced. He squinted suspiciously. "Maybe you shouldn't go down. I think you could use a-"

"I'm _fine, _Bones. Now let's move. Energize."

The clipped voice and murderous glare was missed by none. O'Neil looked away anxiously as Scotty sent the party of three downwards. After they left, he heaved a sigh of concern and headed back to Engineering.

* * *

Good old Scotty. He had beamed them down during a lull in the storm, and just outside of the ship at that. They had plenty of time to survey the situation. The sand only blew slightly in Jim's eyes; his hands were enough to shield them from the irritation.

"Captain, it certainly looks like a class 318. Maybe the transmission was correct." O'Neil offered. Kirk agreed, but that wasn't making the sinking feeling in his gut go away. He looked over at Bones for his input.

"Well I don't give a damn what it is. If there are children in danger on that ship, that's all I care about."

The Captain yielded. He could always count on McCoy for strait forward advice. Still, he couldn't help but miss Spock's always contradicting advice, giving him two very diverse and valid options that he always had to choose from. A fleeting thought questioned if Spock's suggestion might be the better one in this situation, but… there was no Spock.

"Good point, Bones. Alright, O'Neil on my left and Bones on my right. Stay behind me, no matter what. Kirk to Transporter room 3."

"Yes, Captain?"

"Keep a lock on us at all times. If there's any sort of trouble I want us beamed out of here the moment I say the word."

"Understood, sir."

The three then nodded and began moving slowly toward the ship, the Captain and the Ensign with phasers in hand. Out of the corner of his eye, Kirk barely noticed that the gusts of sand were being separated and were gathering in the air in a different pattern than the mass of the ship should have dictated, but for some reason or another, it didn't quite register in his brain to be suspicious of some other mass present - perhaps another ship. All the Captain could do was concentrate on the sickened feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Jim's face looked twisted but the other officers didn't take notice. They were preoccupied doing their jobs, just as Jim _should _have been doing, he thought to himself. _But give yourself a break_, he thought. _This whole thing should be simple enough and you'll be back drinking brandy before you know it. …Again, doing something else instead of what you _should_ be doing…._

A stuttering mouth and nearly frightened expression as his quarter doors had slid open came flying to his mind's eye.

_Spock… _

The name was said gently in Jim's mind. And something rarely felt - regret- spun a web around his chest, squeezing his heart painfully. In this one solitary moment he _did _have the strength to say what he needed to say, ironically enough when Spock wasn't around.

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But please don't go away._

The transport's doors automatically opened for them, and as they did, the atmosphere around them faded away and they found themselves inside a Klingon war bird.

It had been a trap after all. Damn it. He should have listened to Spock. He should have seen the pattern of the sand falling for what it was! Why had he not been paying attention!?! WHY DID HE COME DOWN HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE?!?

_Because you think no one else can do this but you._

Several Klingons fell upon them, trying to bind their hands. Just before Kirk managed to pull out his communicator.

"Transporter room, beam us out, now!"

"Aye, Captain! 3 to beam up!"

Out of the corner of his eye Kirk saw O'Neil dart away from a Klingon's grasp and dissipate into the blue haze of the energizer beam. He didn't have time to feel any sort of relief, as he swung his head to the other side to see McCoy get a firm, painful-sounding hit in the jaw. There was no escaping for the two of them.

The communicator had fallen to the floor in the struggle and Kirk heard Scotty's voice cry out.

"I'm sorry, Captain, I'm having trouble grabbing you two!"

"Forget it, Scotty, you can't pull us up without beaming up the Klingons. Don't put the crew in danger--"

"Klingons?!?"

_Crunch._

The communicator was crushed underneath a boot. Kirk followed the boot up to its owner - a male Klingon with a heavily scarred face. His deformed mouth crept into a victorious grin.

* * *

Spock listened in to the transporter room channel unbeknownst to anyone else. He did not jump in alarm or even flinch at the instigation of phaser fire, as the trap, after some analysis, was over ninety percent likely to indeed be a trap. He was even expecting the sounds of yelling and scuffling and Jim's elevated yet authoritative voice springing up out of the madness, clear as a bell. Yet the First Officer did not go entirely unaffected. The reverberation of the voice, in spirit only, rang deep throughout the caverns of Spock's heart, making something vulnerable and human that was buried so deep it had barely seen the most distant haze of light quake in terror and excitement all at once. One word sprang to his nearly perfect logical brain to describe the sensation. But he would not speak it. He never had, and never would. By all creation, how everything teetered so precariously on the thing that Spock disregarded most: feelings.

His brain commanded that he must, to some extent, allow his human nature to emerge slightly, as it would help him understand and dictate how best to interact with Jim, and what information would have to be withheld, no matter what the cost. He plowed through all the awards, titles, and recognitions he had earned over his career, and knew instantaneously, in a most illogical manner, that they were all disposable if it meant that Jim would run from him.

No. He would not have that. The quivering thing where his heart should have been commanded, in its utter humanity, to remember that. He could not risk losing Jim.

Whether Human or Vulcan, Jim's friendship was the one thing that was truly his, not dictated by his race. It was his and his only. No one could comment on it, or try to take it away from him. No. One.

Spock sprang out of his chair and raced out, pulling out his communicator as he went.

"Spock to Bridge. Mr. Sulu, put us in red alert."

"Aye, sir."

"Transporter room 3, this is Spock. I am on my way. How many signals have you retrieved from the landing party?"

"Only O'Neil's, sir! The Captain and the Doctor are still down there!"

"Then you will prepare to beam me to the surface immediately."

"Unaccompanied, Mr. Spock?"

A thundering, human, disgusting, delightful and deeply satisfying instinctual drum beat into the veins of the Vulcan. And again he allowed his logical brain to bathe, however briefly, in a moment of utter savagery that almost felt good.

_If they have harmed one hair on his head I will not need anyone to back me up. I will kill every last one of them myself._

* * *

"Victory is ours!" yelled the Klingon who had smashed Kirk's communicator. His band, at least fifty in number, answered him in a guttural war cry, saluting him. How Kirk wanted to ask McCoy if he was alright as the Doctor shook his head violently, trying to shake off the punch, but Kirk knew this was no time to show any sort of weakness, especially compassion. He looked directly into the eyes of the one he assumed was the leader and did not flinch, for the sake of all he loved.

"Greetings, Captain Kirk. I am Claton." said the Klingon. "I am the Captain of this vessel. And this is my mate and my first officer, Unar."

A sturdy, wild-looking Klingon female flashed her eyes at Kirk. Kirk's eyes darted between the two of them.

"Do you act on the authority of the Empire, or are you rogue?" he asked authoritatively.

"That is not your concern, Captain."

"I think it is. After all, this is a pretty big stunt to pull against a Starfleet flagship. Especially since you know our phasers can destroy this ship almost instantaneously."

"Ah, but I think your crew will not do so with their beloved Captain on board."

Kirk became indignant. "My men will do what I tell them to do. They believe in the greater good just as much as I do."

The one called Claton laughed. "We shall soon see. All will be revealed to you in good time, Captain. Mak'to, hail the Enterprise."

* * *

Spock arrived in transporter room 3 with a phaser rifle and a variety of other weapons strapped to his belt. Nurse Chapel was carrying O'Neil out towards Sickbay as he muttered about the ambush listlessly. As Scotty prepared the transporter, Sulu's voice flared up on the intercom.

"Transporter room 3, this is Sulu. Mr. Spock, we are being hailed by the Klingon ship. Your presence on the bridge is requested."

Spock, for an instant, looked annoyed. He pointed his finger forcefully at Scotty.

"Leave the settings. I will return as soon as possible."

Scotty nodded quickly, knowing what was good for him. "Aye, sir."

When Spock arrived on the bridge, he was met unfortunately by the Ambassador, frantically waving her arms around and following him as he walked to the Captain's chair.

"Mr. Spock, what is going on?! I demand to know this instant! What sort of chaos is this on a Starfleet vessel that red alert is required? Honestly, the unprofessional conduct of this crew is--"

Gently, Spock caressed the arm of Jim's chair. For one small moment he had managed to block everything out, agreeing in both sides of his heart that he would do everything necessary to get Jim out of there. Uhura, recognizing the seriousness of Spock's stance, quietly tried to coax the Ambassador into silence, but she would not be quiet, she would not -

"MADAM. If you do not desist and remove yourself from the Bridge at this moment, I will subdue you by force. You are a hazard to the crew on this vessel and I will not allow them to come into more danger than they are already in. Am I perfectly understood?"

Every pair of eyes on the Bridge was staring at Spock. They had never seen him this intense before, and what's more, they were dying to watch him throw the Ambassador off the Bridge. And sure enough, when her mouth simply moved to open again, he pinched her and she fell to the floor.

Uhura and Sulu grinned.

"Someone remove this baggage, please."

"Yes, sir!"

"Lieutenant, answer the call."

"Right away, sir."

Spock assumed a stance and tipped his head back. He saw Jim, blurry in the background… his worse nightmare come to fruition. But now was not the time. Jim needed him. Needed him to remain calm.

"This is First Office Spock of the Enterprise. Release our two crewmen immediately, or we will open fire on your vessel."

"We think not, Mr. Spock." answered Claton. "We call your bluff."

"Do keep in mind that that is not my only course of action. I could also simply beam a war party down to the surface and annihilate you in that fashion."

"You do that, and we'll kill these two the moment your first man is spotted! … But we are willing to negotiate. After all, we did not come here to random your beloved Captain. We will return him and his companion unharmed… if you give us the Ambassador of Vatos VII. She will be a fine bargaining chip in the battle for territory in their solar system."

"So that is what this is about? As much as it would please me personally to surrender her to you, that is not an option. Our mission is to deliver her safely to her destination, no matter what the cost."

"Even if that cost is your Captain?" Unar roared, stepping up close to Kirk and holding a phaser to his temple.

It was just the opportunity Kirk needed. In a rush, he swirled around and struck Unar. He had taken the whole group by surprise - managed to grab a phaser that had fallen to the floor - snagged her arm…

The tables had now turned.

"Don't move!" Kirk yelled. He held the phaser fast now to her temple. She did not struggle. Instead, she was calm, as if knowing this was a futile effort and would end in simply a delay of the inevitable. Her collectedness alarmed Kirk, but he concentrated all the resolve he had into his eyes as he stared Claton down.

The Klingon commander laughed heartily.

"Foolish, Kirk. Very foolish. You know that you are not the only one who believes in the greater good. And you also know all too well that Klingons do not fear death. Unar knows that if her death will bring the mission victory, we will except those terms."

"With honor!" Unar added.

"But no one need die here." Kirk reasoned. His palms were sweating and it took a great deal of control to keep from shaking. It's difficult to reason with any Klingon, especially if that Klingon happens to hold all the cards and the last hope could be fashioned only by a careful choice of words. "It would be a waste for such a fierce warrior to die in such a way; pointlessly, and outside of battle."

"Are you trying to trick us with words, Kirk? What a pathetic attempt to bargain for your lives!"

"Wrong, Claton. Just his."

Claton was silent. Kirk went on, the bravado seeping slowly into his veins from all the corners of his soul and converging to override all instincts of self preservation. He could do this. He had done it a thousand times before. Of course he had escaped every time, but every time he had been prepared to accept that escape may not have been an option. Death had to be expected, almost embraced. Spock watched in utter horror on the screen, but one would never know it from the look on his perfectly composed face.

"Let my crewman go, and you can keep me. I won't resist you."

"Jim! Are you mad?" McCoy barked.

"And why would I let either of you go, when both of you are in my possession?"

"Because my ship has orders to leave in fifteen minutes, whether we are on board or not." he bluffed. "I can stop that order, if only you'll let my crewman go. Isn't that right, Mr. Spock?"

Spock immediately picked up on it. "Yes, Captain."

Kirk watched intensely as Claton thought. All the Captain could do was pray that he didn't consider the fact that if he threatened to kill McCoy, Kirk would do anything they asked him to - even cancel the order. Despite himself, he had to be honest. He looked across the way at Bones. He thought of all the times he and Bones had run into a tight spot… how he had wanted to declare when asked to give their identities that not only was Bones his chief medical officer… but his friend. His best friend.

There was just no way. He could lose himself, but not Bones. He hoped that, even though he had never said it, Bones knew that.

His heart, defined by the man kneeling next to him and the man flying vulnerably in the atmosphere above, staring at him on the hailing screen. One could hardly think of the Enterprise as vulnerable, but that was the way Jim thought of it, since it carried such precious cargo that would not, could not be sacrificed.

_The ship is not what I love. I thought it was… but I'm wrong. _

Kirk and Spock looked at one another intensely as Claton nodded to let McCoy go. Distantly the Captain heard McCoy's protests and he faded into the energizer beam nearby. He felt relief, but now the focus was brought back to any remote possibility of saving his own skin. As much as he wanted to watch that horrible, horrible bitch burn, Spock knew that Kirk was saying no with his eyes. The truth was that they both realized there could potentially not be a way out of this.

Over the years, as Jim had become more precious to Spock, there would occasionally be an irrational fear of a situation such as this, where Spock could not come gallivanting to the Captain's rescue, and they would have to come to terms with duty above all. But the fear would always be dismissed, knowing the Captain's wits, his charm, his tenacity for life would always win the day. It was the only way Spock was able to function properly and let Jim do his job without constantly mothering him, saying he shouldn't do this and shouldn't do that… but then again, didn't he do that anyway?

In any case, Spock was desperate. As he looked into Jim's eyes everything was falling apart when it needed to be insurmountable, invincible, unconquerable.

It couldn't be helped. He had to do something drastic. And he would. By all creation.

"I am demanding that you do not harm him."

"Demanding? You are demanding something of _us?!?" _The Klingons laughed. They laughed at Spock as if he were an insect, and it actually stung him. Not because they thought him so insignificant, but because as they laughed the head Klingon's blade was cutting deeper and deeper into the flesh of Jim Kirk's throat. To see his blood… it had never been easy. It was especially not now.

"I'd watch what I say, Vulcan, if I were you. You know that if you say the slightest thing to anger me, I will not hesitate to kill this man. After all, there are other places to intercept the Ambassador and complete the mission."

This was the stupidest idea he had ever come up with. But the words were coming out of his mouth now. He could not stop himself. He spoke in Vulcan so he would only embarrass himself and the Captain minimally, as there was only one other on the Bridge who spoke Vulcan.

"I am personally begging you not to harm him. I am begging you not as a Star Fleet Officer, but as a fellow being. Please do not harm him."

The head Klingon sneered. "Why would you beg for this man's life?" he answered in Klingon. "What is he to you that you would do such a thing?"

Spock took a deep breath. "I love him."

"What?"

"He is my t'hy'la."

The Klingon smiled. "Say it in the common Earth tongue."

"He is my t'hy'la." Spock repeated exactly what he had said in English, hoping that the Klingon would be satisfied with that. It was possible that he was ignorant of what the word t'hy'la meant. It was obvious he was trying to embarrass Spock in front of the crew, but with any luck he would think the word was an English word he was unfamiliar with.

The rest of the crew remained baffled, except for Uhura. She looked a little taken aback, but somehow calm, knowing. She turned back to her console quietly.

Kirk looked continually into Spock's eyes from the haziness of the screen, trying to piece the puzzle together. That word… what did it mean? Those black eyes were so intense, and yet so vulnerable. Spock… what are you doing?

A light bulb went off in the Vulcan's head. This small confession may have put pity on his side… giving him just enough edge to try something very, very dangerous…

"I humbly request to come down, unarmed and alone, to negotiate further with you."

"What a pathetic First Officer. Only animals and Humans plead for their lives." Unar sneered in Klingon. Claton looked for affirmation from her, which she gave with an uncaring wave of a hand.

"Request is granted, Vulcan. If there is a single weapon in your hand, both of you will be killed. Understood?"

"Understood." Spock smiled inwardly. "Mr. Sulu, you have the com."

"But, sir, I…"

"Trust me. Lieutenant?"

Uhura turned.

"I will ask for your confidence."

"Absolutely, sir."

"Very good."

"Good luck."

"I thank you, although luck, logically, cannot exist."


	4. Chapter 4

And here they are! At last! The final chapters! Please don't tar and feather me for taking so long… *cry face!* Thanks again to all my patient readers who are watching this story. If you like my writing, please check out my website for my original novel series, The Tenth Revolution. Available on amazon! =) !

Kirk was really bored with this stupid Klingon blade against his throat. This hostage situation was getting old fast. First a phaser, then a blade? Ugh. On top of that he had been passed back on to Unar, the female, and she was even less gentle than Claton was, especially since the phaser turnaround. Kirk was trying to be patient, but this was getting a little out of hand.

"Hey, watch it there. You're going to leave a scar." he said, wearing his patented disarming, yet obnoxious smile. Unar sneered and pushed the blade in a little more. Kirk huffed a little.

"Always appreciate a woman with spunk."

Clearly Unar had had enough of this dialogue. "Do not patronize me, human! I could destroy you effortlessly if I desired."

"Yes, you've made that abundantly clear. But have you had your nails done recently?"

"How dare you-"

"Unar!" Claton barked. He continued the rest in Klingon, which Kirk, thankfully, could not understand, as it looked rather harsh. Unar growled and stayed silent.

"Guess he put you in your rightful place, didn't he?" Kirk mocked. "We know how highly he thinks of you now. I mean, how could the Captain go around letting his mate, who was suspiciously _given_ the position of first officer, bark orders and threaten the exceptionally valuable prisoner?"

"Captain!" Unar barked. Claton turned and shot Kirk a disgusted glare, yet not without a hint of knowing in it. Then he turned to Unar.

"Permission to silence the hostage by cutting out his _tongue, _sir," she went on.

Kirk pretended to blanch at her, only mocking her further. Claton was just about to answer her with what seemed like a resounding affirmative (which coincidentally wiped the smug grin right off Kirk's face) when he signaled for quiet. Spock was coming up the path in the billowing sandstorm.

He was wearing one of his old robes from Vulcan - the ones made for this sort of weather, which occurred frequently there. The hood was pulled over his head and he held a corner of it over his mouth. Kirk's heart quivered for a moment when he first spotted him, seeing a flash of Spock on Vulcan, regal and wise, walking through the heart of its own deserts. He wished they were there now. He should remember to ask Spock to take him there on leave after this… yes, maybe it is time for leave… maybe all of this was just a gentle hint from the powers that be that Jim needed a break. Or at least… needed not to be alone.

Diving out of the frying pan of the storm and into the fire of the Klingon ship, Spock cautiously removed his hands and let his enemies search him for weaponry.

"Careful. Vulcans, even unarmed, can be more dangerous than they appear." Unar commented.

"Silence, Unar." Claton snapped. Kirk's comments had been so easy to see through, but it obviously had hit one of Claton's weak spots. He was, secretly, intimidated by his mate's power. Kirk quickly computed how he could use this to their advantage.

"Good to see you, Spock." he said casually.

"Likewise, Captain." Spock said blankly. He immediately turned then to Claton. "So I understand you wish to take the Ambassador hostage."

Claton took a cheap shot. "Straight to business, just like a Vulcan. Or a repulsive ferengi… although I don't see much difference between the two races."

A comment like that wasn't enough to distract Spock from watching Kirk's blood trickle down his neck. It made him sick, just as it had on the bridge. But he quickly gathered himself back up again and once more took the initiative.

"What are your terms?"

"Very simple," Unar said. "Give us what we want, and we'll deliver your captain via transporter when we are safely out of range. We will enter warp as soon as he is transported."

"And what if I were to say I did not believe you."

Claton sneered. "We give you our word, Vulcan. And you can take a Klingon's word, unlike your race."

"Even if that statement were true, I would still not believe you. After all, what hope does your ship have in outrunning a Starfleet vessel of the Enterprise's caliber? What else could you use as a bargaining chip?"

Oh, if only Spock could read minds from across the room. Kirk was beyond confused - Spock was making the situation worse by making them realize they would have to take him with them! But still, Spock had never steered him wrong before. If he could only keep his beak shut long enough for Spock to unfold the master plan…

Sulu bit off his pointer finger nail in the Captain's chair, staring at the little moon on the screen in front of him. What was going on down there? How could he help? Spock had only been gone ten minutes but it already felt like an eternity…

"Mr. Sulu, sir, I don't know why exactly the computers didn't sense this before, but… there seems to be a wee bit of a problem." Scott said on the intercom. The suddenness of the page made Sulu jump a little.

"What is it, Mr. Scott?"

"There's a meteor shower headed straight this way. It's going to pelt us and the entire eastern hemisphere of the moon, sir!"

"How long do we have?"

"About a half an hour, sir. Then we've got to get out of this sector. There's no way we'd sustain the damage with the computers saying the average size of each meteor is a quarter of a mile across!"

Sulu swallowed hard. "I'd hardly describe that as a "wee bit of a problem," Mr. Scott. Especially since Mr. Spock and the Captain are in the eastern hemisphere. Sulu out."

Uhura bit her lip and turned in her chair. "Sir, what should we do?"

"There's nothing we can do, Uhura. We have to wait."

"So let me see if I have this right, Mr. Spock…" Claton said. "You are telling me that you won't surrender the Ambassador, but you are asking me not to kill your Captain. Is that right?"

"That is correct."

Every Klingon on the crew burst out laughing.

"Of all the Vulcans to meet up with, we have to negotiate with the one who is the dimmest!"

Unar, smiling, stepped forward, passing Kirk off again to another officer.

"Hi there," Kirk said sarcastically. "How's it going? Nice to meet you." The officer ignored him in an irritated fashion.

"I would speak with the Vulcan alone." Unar stated. Claton immediately looked threatened.

"Unar, I forbid it."

She disregarded him completely. "Come, this way." She gestured to Spock, who followed without hesitation. The truth was that while he had been searching for answers through the databanks, the meteor shower on its way was the best plan he could come up with. Grab the Captain, hide in the sand storm and hope that the timing was good enough in their escape with the meteors that the Klingons would be in chaos. And… uh…. hopefully not die via meteor in the process. He knew the Captain thought he had a better plan than that, but for once he was just willing to see what cards were dealt before he made his first play.

After Spock and Unar left, Kirk decided to pick at Claton's scabs a little more.

"Ah, so now she's doing the negotiating? A little suspicious, don't you agree?"

"Silence, human."

"How do you know she's not turning on you? She could have been talking to your every officer independently on the way here, ready to stage a coup. I mean, don't you think it's a little idealistic to trust your mate to be your right hand in battle?"

"Unar is a strong mate, and a strong warrior. Our bond makes her even more loyal to me."

"You know, it's a very old saying on Earth that you should never do business with friends or lovers. And war is a Klingon's business. It always has been. Just something to think about…."

Unar gestured in the small conference room for Spock to sit. He would not. Somewhat insulted, she also continued to stand.

"I know what t'hy'la means." Unar stated clearly. Spock did not look alarmed, or even caring. "It is unusual for your kind to pursue love that could not possibly result in offspring. Even during the pon farr, a Vulcan's instincts are…"

"I have rationalized it as the part in me that is human. Beside that, it is illogical to have offspring while attempting to maintain a Starfleet officer's lifestyle." Spock did not miss a beat. It would have been foolish to deny the meaning of t'hy'la at this point, especially in private. As a matter of fact it seemed to him it might be the best scenario. "You know a great deal of Vulcans for a Klingon."

"Know as much as you can about your enemy," she snapped. "The reason I brought you here, Spock…. Yes, I know who you are …is because I want to know, as one of the first non-humans to join Starfleet, are your loyalties truly to the federation, or to your lover?"

"An outstanding question, and one with a very simple answer. Jim, to me, is Starfleet. He lives and breathes for the federation. Therefore, I do not serve two masters… only one."

"So it is possible to serve your faction and your mate?" Unar questioned further.

_So that was what this was about. _Spock had just come up with a better plan.

Ten, perhaps fifteen minutes had gone by. Sulu and the rest of the bridge were still waiting nervously for some sort of sign from the surface. Uhura worriedly looked at the screen, trying to imagine what was going on down there, trying to understand what Spock's heart was going through, how it was so much more difficult than she initially thought. Something inside her hurt for him, knowing the difficulties of his culture, his profession, his pride… and how all of these things made true happiness nearly impossible. But not totally impossible.

"Kirk would want us to leave." Sulu whispered indecisively. He kept chewing on his fingernails, tearing them off one by one.

"But we can't do that!" Scott yelled. "We just can't!"

"So that means we can put four hundred lives at stake for the sake of two?"

"But… "

"I don't know what to do either, Scottie! Don't look at me like that!"

"_Stop bickering." _Uhura said quickly. The other two fell silent. "We are waiting here for them. And that is that."

Spock and Unar had not emerged from the private room. Claton was getting more restless by the second.

"So, fifteen minutes… " Kirk whispered to the officer who was holding him, just loud enough that he knew Claton would overhear. "You know, it only takes fifteen minutes to…"

"The next words that come out of you will be your last, human." Claton barked. Kirk had to admit, he was starting to enjoy this. Who knew marital problems could actually be fun? Now if only Spock would pick up on all this, which, Jim was sure, he would…

This was embarrassing. Playing councilor to the highly passionate and adrenaline-driven Klingon race was not exactly Spock's strong point. Nevertheless, it was their best option at this juncture.

"Has he been… " Spock choked on the awkwardness of it. "disrespecting you?"

"He has, which is unlike him." Unar assured Spock. "my mother and grandmother would disown me if they knew I was being addressed this way."

"My suggestion, madam, is that you make a stand." Spock jumped the gun. He was afraid he had gone into it too soon, but there was probably a bare five minutes left before the meteor shower began. "Declare your displeasure. The proud female Klingons of your race would have it no other way."

Unar did not answer. Instead her face looked resolute; she turned and began to walk toward the door…

"Enough of this, WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING IN THERE?" Claton yelled. Just as Unar came out he almost ran right into her, making clear that his intent was to barge in on their conversation.

"How dare you, Claton! Am I not the first officer on this ship? And is it not true that the first officer has that position precisely because of the unending trust and bond between herself and the Captain? How dare you demand to know -"

"How dare YOU, Unar, for making a mockery of me in front of my crew. I will not have my mate discuss anything in private quarters with a good-for-nothing - "

"Are you _accusing _me of something, Claton? If you dare to accuse me, I will challenge you for my honor!"

"VERY WELL THEN! LET US FIGHT!"

_**BOOM!**_

"Warning, Warning, main engines have been destroyed. Now running on auxiliary power…"

At last! The meteor shower! Now was the chance Spock and Kirk had been waiting for. They exchanged knowing looks and attacked their somewhat stunned captors.

As the surface of the moon continued to be pummeled, Kirk and Spock fought and fought, trying to get closer to their equipment. Finally Kirk banged one Klingon over the head and seized his communicator.

"SULU! SCOTTIE! GET US OUT OF HERE!"

"D'ya hear that, Sulu!"

"Yes, but let's save the rejoicing for later. Get them on board, NOW!"

"Yes, sir! Two to beam up!"

A blur… crystalline, beautiful, blue. Spock felt the transporter beam begin its process and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was quite relieved to see transporter room three was what surrounded him. When he glanced beside him however, expecting to share a smile with Kirk, the Captain was on the ground, unconscious.

The crewmen who manned the transport station's smiles also faded quickly. They shouted for McCoy, who was only seconds away from the doors already, having overheard the hurried cry from Jim for the beam up. Much to his horror, his best and dearest friend lay with his eyes closed, his blood slowly seeping out from underneath him.

"Jim! Jim! Stay with me now!"

The actions were nothing more than that to Spock. He could only stare, disbelieving. McCoy pulling out an injector, lifting up his shirt, seeing the stab wound there. He vaguely heard reports over the intercom of the moon just having been destroyed, along with the Klingons, but none of this mattered. He watched McCoy and his interns carry Jim away… away to sick bay. Who knows if Jim would ever come out of there again? What if he was already… dead…

"Mr. Spock? Doctor McCoy sent me back here," a sheepish intern said, coming through the doors. "He said to return to your quarters. There's nothing you can do for him right now. They will let you know when there's news."

Spock just nodded.

"Are you alright, sir?"

Another nod.

"Very well, sir. If there's anything you need sir, please let us know."

He leaves. Spock stands. Spock stands for almost an hour, staring at the wall.

Then he sits on the stairs of the transport platform. He does not move.


	5. Chapter 5

"Spock? Spock! Good God man, we were looking everywhere for you."

Spock is jolted awake by McCoy, shaking his arm. He was still in the transporter room… he had fallen asleep… how many hours had it been?

Suddenly Spock remembered everything. He felt sick, truly and horribly sick. Jim had been probably dead for hours, and he had been asleep, he had not been there…

"No one would've ever expected you to still be here. It's been eight hours!"

Spock stuttered. "I-is… is Jim…"

"He's _fine _Spock, that's why we've been trying to find you. He's been awake for over an hour, Which is more than I can say for you!"

He's alive.

He's alive…

A deep, precious breath. Exhalation.

Quickly Spock grabbed the Doctor and embraced him. McCoy's eyes nearly fell out of his head, but he smiled after a while. What the hell, an anomaly has to happen every once in a while.

"Alright, that's enough. Enough I said! I can only take so much weirdness in one day. Let's get you to sickbay, I've got to check on you."

"I've got to see Jim."

"Alright, alright… that, too. Hey, not so fast now! Slow down!"

Just outside the door now. Breathe. Just breathe. It will be fine. Fine…

The automatic door opened a little sooner than he had expected. It startled him, but forced him to come to terms with the current reality. He stepped forward, towards Kirk, sitting up, bright-eyed, eating a sandwich. He almost died and he's eating a sandwich? Everything was fine! It's always fine! Why is it that he thought it would be any different this time?

"Captain, I am… I am so pleased that you are unharmed, for the most part." Spock said as his emotions raged ridiculously, the turmoil apparent in his eyes.

"Perhaps simply mentally scarred, and only because Nurse Chapel can't seem to stop prodding at this cut on my side!"

"Captain, please hold still! I can't seal this thing up if you're going to fidget like that! To think such a little cut caused all that bleeding…"

"What are you talking about, Nurse! I had to take him to surgery! It nearly grazed his organs!"

Their bickering only made Spock more nervous. He felt small and unsure of himself - two things he detested greatly.

"Still, I…" he continued in a very quiet voice that immediately brought attention to himself. "It could have ended much worse than it did."

Kirk smiled. "It's incredible to me that we managed to escape that place by breaking up a relationship."

The Captain then paused, staring at Spock, trying to communicate without words. Spock's eyes darted away quickly.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "Oh for Heaven's sake, Spock, escort the Captain back to his quarters. I'm insisting he sleep for at least eight hours starting right now, without any disturbances. Think you can handle that?"

Spock perked up. "Certainly, Doctor."

"Wow… no arguing? I just gave the first officer an order and I get no quip, no snide comments? I can't believe it! This IS the weirdest day I have EVER had on this ship! Except perhaps that day I went nuts and jumped through that time portal…What was that thing called again? I can't remember… "

After awkwardly helping Jim put his shirt back on, Spock accompanied Jim back to his quarters in silence. Neither one of them would look at one another. It was like the halls were filled with balloons and they were covered in needles, the tension was so high.

At the door, though, Jim loosened up.

"Have a good rest, Jim. I will make sure no one disturbs you."

"No, don't go, Spock." he pleaded in a defeated tone. "Come on in for a few minutes. Please."

Again the word please. Spock swallowed hard.

"Yes, sir."

In the sitting room Jim laid himself on a recliner while Spock immediately went to fetch Jim a cup of coffee from the replicator - anything to keep his eyes away from him. Unfortunately he knew he had to eventually bring the coffee IN there…

"Here you are, sir." He said hurriedly, putting the coffee on the table next to Jim and then taking a seat as far away from him as he could. Jim sighed. He couldn't take this anymore. He just couldn't.

"Spock, I won't bite you. Really. Will you come sit next to me?"

"… As you wish, sir."

A groan from Jim. Oh no, not this now…

Spock was as rigid as a piece of wood. Jim put a hand on his shoulder - it made Spock jump.

"Spock, please relax. I need to talk to you. … Will you look at me?"

… No response, at least, not immediate. Spock jerked his neck slowly towards Jim, trying to play off his avoidance like he was simply observing the atmosphere. Jim laughed out loud, inspiring Spock to give a questioning look.

"Nothing, you're just acting really human right now."

"No need to insult me, Captain."

"Aw come on, cut the bull crap. Can't we just be honest with each other? I mean, Bones is my best friend, but you… " his voice went into a whisper. "I'm your … t'hy'la, aren't I?"

Jim using the word. It sent a shiver through Spock that went strait to his groin. Would anything feel this good? Would… kissing Jim be as good as he imagined it? Being this close to his mouth made him wonder… made him wonder why during all the times he had been this close to Jim, he hadn't already kissed him, damn the consequences. But can they really be discarded that easily…

Jim arched his back slowly up toward Spock, his mouth now not even an inch away from Spock's. Was this a trap? Or was Jim seducing him outwardly, without any regret? Was he interpreting this correctly at all?

Jim's heart was beating fast. It was now, right now, that he knew he had always wanted this. Not just in passing, in the heat of the moment, but… I mean, by God… how could anyone else ever satisfy him, with that heat radiating off of Spock's every pore? What a beautiful and perfect thing, and he was all his…

"Spock… tell me what it means…what does t'hy'la mean…"

Breath spilling into his mouth. Eyes half lidded. So easy to gather him up into his arms, so easy to reach out and touch what he had always wanted to touch. Could he risk everything for this one, beautiful moment…

He couldn't help it. He had to say it. His whole body ached. It was all so… illogical.

"T'hy'la… means…"

"Yes…"

"It means…"

"What?"

"Friend, brother… lover."

Jim seized Spock immediately as he uttered the word. Savagely he pushed him down on the couch, smashing his lips against his, sealing with fiery abandon what they both _yearned _for so badly. Underneath Spock's eyelids he saw brightly colored spots that had temporarily seared themselves to his retinas from the chandelier above. They were beautiful. Everything was beautiful… right now. Why had this taken so long?

Savagely running his hands up and down Spock yet gingerly moving around with his wound, Spock managed to break away from that beautiful tongue, that gorgeous mouth, just long enough to blurt out, "There's a thousand reasons why we shouldn't do this…"

"And there is only one reason why we should." said Kirk. "Logically those are not very good odds, but quantity doesn't matter so much in this case, I should think."

Spock thought for a moment. "Agreed," he said, then practically swallowing Kirk's tongue, nearly melting as Kirk let out the most delicious groan he had ever heard in his entire life. It reverberated deep from within Kirk's chest, into his mouth, then into Spock's mouth and finally into his chest. Just the vibration was enough to drive them both insane. The chandelier continued to burn spots into their eyes as they rolled over and over on the couch…

Kirk's hand drove down into Spock's pants and _squeezed, hard. _A deep gasp came out of Spock, causing him to choke, it was so violent.

"That feels…" he said, surprised and weakened. He was about to finish the sentence, but then he realized the sentence was already complete. "That…_feels."_

"Tell me, Spock… talk to me…" Jim said with a smile, newly invigorated by the thought. Spock's proper, mysterious mouth spilling all his darkest thoughts, his human desires…

"Jim, I have wanted you so badly… I have dreamed of you so many nights. It was so difficult for me not to ask you to be my mate during my last pon farr…"

"Spock, swear to me that I will be your next. I'll ravish you for days, I'll let you ravish me… I'll let you screw me on every piece of furniture on this ship…"

The words were building heat in Spock even faster than Kirk's hand was. There was no holding back - he moaned and moaned, tossing and turning, grasping the pillows behind his head on the couch. Kirk quickly threw his pants off and unzipped Spock's, squeezing both their cocks in his hand at the same time. Spock violently bit Kirk's shoulder, clawed his back… the passion was limitless, swirling in the air with the chandelier lights burned into their eyes.

Always such a reserved face, a Vulcan face… now flushed and begging for more. Nothing turned Jim on more. Nothing in the world. He was drunk with it, with the mood in the air… how glorious, what perfection. What else could he ever ask for in a lover, except one who excited him this much, but he could truly care for?

Spock tore off his tunic and undershirt, pulling Kirk's head down to his nipples. Kirk gladly sucked on them, making each of them a dark purple as his free hand twirled around in Spock's lightly furred chest.

After this Spock, nearly intoxicated, coated his fingers with his own saliva and reached around to Jim's backside. He only gave Jim a moment of eye contact, allowing him to protest if he wished, but when no protest came, his fingers gently prodded and pulled apart his tight little hole, diving right in.

Jim continued to rub both their cocks up and down with his hand. The pleasure he now felt only inspired him to go faster. Both so desperate and hungry, their voices became so loud the echo off the walls was enormous.

"Jim, I can't…"

"Do it… do it all over me…"

Jim immediately laid back, finishing himself off while Spock came to his climax. The Vulcan sperm was extremely thick, but not unpleasant smelling in any way - curiously Jim put some in his mouth. Watching Jim do it made Spock's skin flush green, even more so than he already was. Jim laughed, wrapping his arms around him.

After just a moment of listening to one another breathe hard, Jim chuckled again. "If I'd have known you walking in on me would've gotten this kind of response from you, I'd have let you do it years ago."

"It would have been impossible for me to have taken the initiative." Spock replied. "You know that, Jim."

"I know, Spock." Gently he caressed his cheek. "_I know you_. Still, so many nights of longing, so much suffering… and it all could've been prevented."

"It doesn't matter now, Jim. Truly. We are together now… and as long as we can keep it a secret, it can remain that way."

"I'd tell the commander to take a hike any day of the week if he gave me trouble about you."

"Jim, I couldn't possibly imagine you putting your career in jeopardy on my account."

Jim grabbed Spock's chin, forcing him to look him in the eye. "Then perhaps you don't know me as well as I thought you did. You wait, Spock, someday, maybe not now, but when we're older, I'll prove it to you. I'll put everything on the line for you."

"I can only pray that you will never have to."

"… But if we _can _keep it a secret of course, heh, that would be better for everybody… although I think me staring at this beautiful ass of yours will give it away."

"Either that or me leaving from your chambers early every morning will."

"Well I'm sure we have some time to figure a strategy out…"

Much to their horror, behind them they heard Jim's front doors open.

"Jim, sorry to interrupt your nap, but I've got to give you these shots, you left before I… Oh, God."

Messy, sweaty and naked, Jim and Spock looked up from the couch at McCoy, both realizing that neither one of them had locked the doors on the way in.

McCoy closed his eyes and walked out. "Nevermind. Alright, officially, the WEIRDEST day ever."


End file.
